


Under Any Circumstances

by krysnel_nicavis



Series: Porn on the Cutting Room Floor (and other places) [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Episode: s04e01 Lazarus Rising, Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, Episode: s10e22 The Prisoner, M/M, Porn, Porn With Plot, Post-Episode: s12e02 Mamma Mia, Sweat, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, bottom!Castiel, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 11:50:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8889640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krysnel_nicavis/pseuds/krysnel_nicavis
Summary: Castiel had never given much thought to that particular bodily function.  Actually, he hadn’t given any thought to any bodily function… Until the Righteous Man was risen from perdition.Or, the one where Castiel becomes preoccupied with sweat.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this quote:
>
>> “I don’t sweat under any circumstances.” – Castiel (Season 12, Episode 2)

Castiel had never given much thought to that particular bodily function.  Actually, he hadn’t given any thought to any bodily function.  His grace automatically took control of all of them.  It only made sense to regulate all of his vessel’s proper functions and he did so with every vessel he’d ever chose to take.  They were unnecessary and tedious distractions from his mission, so they never sparked his curiosity.

Until the Righteous Man was risen from perdition.

He’d had important matters to see to once he’d managed to finally piece Dean Winchester’s broken soul back together, rebuild the torn and degraded cellular structure of his body down to the last quark (1), and make it possible to seamlessly reunite the two without the soul rejecting to body.  He’d left it up to Uriel to actually merge the two and, when he was finally free to check on the elder Winchester, the man was wandering along a dirt road under the glaring sun.

Castiel found himself suddenly curious.

Dean’s heated skin was glistening in the heat.

He knew that humans we prone to sweating.  It was a quirk his father had built into the creatures that Castiel had found odd when he’d first learned of it.  His first vessel, a warrior on a battlefield in what would one day become Europe, had been sweating when he’d inhabited him.  Castiel didn’t like it.  It was sticky and moist and uncomfortable and gave off a decidedly unpleasant aroma.

Dean was… different.

Castiel watched as the human raised an arm to wipe the built up sweat from his brow.  Droplets tracked tiny reflective rivers down reddened skin.  Dirt stuck to him much more readily than normal and he was getting close to collapsing.  The shine off this human’s skin reminded him of the glistening of sunlight off a body of water.  The image reminded him of another quirk shared by many of the creatures inhabiting this planet: they required water.  Just as Dean was about to pass a turn on the road, Castiel reached out with his grace and nudged the elder Winchester down the turn that would lead him to a place where humans exchanged currency for goods.  It would be closed but, judging from what he was able to glean from his time with Dean’s soul, this human was resourceful.

* * *

He was trying not to show it but he was nervous.  Scared even.  Castiel could see it when he arrived at Stull Cemetery with Bobby Singer in tow.  There was a very light sheen of sweat coating Dean’s skin in an even layer.  It didn’t shine like how it did on that dirt road two years before, but there was enough of a shine that Castiel was momentarily distracted by it.  It always intrigued him, the different situations in which this human’s body would produce the substance.  And the manner in which it did.

The nanosecond he was distracted felt like hours to the celestial being.  Castiel blinked and internally shook himself.  He set fire to the end of a rag that was stuffed into a glass bottle filled with holy oil.  He had a job to do.

If there ever was a moment when Castiel wondered whether his grace would not be enough to control the function of his vessel’s sweat glands, the moment his older brother Lucifer’s attention was focused solely on him would inevitably be it.

* * *

Castiel flinched when hard blows landed on his ribcage… his cheekbone… his jaw… with demonic strength.  He normally wouldn’t feel it.  At least not enough for it to actually hurt.  Humans could never garner enough strength to actually cause pain.  But the Mark on Dean’s arm, even after they’d managed to drag his humanity back out from the depths it was locked in, was fuelling his adrenaline with pure rage.  And Castiel’s weakened grace is nowhere near back to full power.

Castiel lay flat on his back, blood pooling in his throat, Dean kneeling over him.  His right hand grasping Dean’s left wrist, a final plea.  For mercy.  For reason.  For Dean to come back from this dark and bloody path he’s on.  Come back to humanity.  Come back to him.

Dean’s skin is clammy.  The blood surrounding his face accentuating his pallor.  Castiel’s heart ached at the sight of the effects the damned Mark had on not only the Righteous Man’s body, but also the brightness of his soul.

He barely heard Dean’s threat before he stalked out.  The constricting muscles in his chest was more than just the pain his body was feeling as he stared at the Angel Blade stuck in a book approximately a foot away from his head.  It wasn’t just an ache he felt.

* * *

Cas brushed sloppy, noisy kisses to the Dean’s left shoulder, neck, behind his ear.  His nose sweeping lightly through the man’s dampened hair, breathing in the scent radiating off the man in his exertion, intoxicated by it, as Dean pulled back from where his face had been nestled into the bend of Castiel’s neck and shoulder.  Hand sliding down the human’s sweaty back.

The hunter trailed his own sloppy kisses down along Cas’ shoulder, clavicle, left pectoral muscle.  He grinned as he lightly grazed the nipple with his teeth, alternately sucked and ran his tongue around the little nub.  Teasing.  Dean moved back slightly, leaning over Cas and kneeling between thick, muscular thighs that were slotted onto each of his hips with knees raised in anticipation.  He ran his hand along the heated flesh of the other man’s abdomen, rutting against his sex.  Their hot, hard shafts slid alongside one another.  He reached down and lined his tip against his angel’s open hole, enjoying the light sound of Castiel’s exhaling pant, a barely audible sigh, as he slid back into him with ease.  He leaned back fully and balanced himself more firmly on his knees, thighs pressed firmly against the smooth, tanned skin of Castiel’s backside, bracing his hands in the bend of Cas’ knees, feet up near the level of Dean’s ribcage.

Castiel reached up and held onto Dean’s hips as the hunter rotated his hips, thrusting lazily.  He slid one hand up the fleshy expanse of Dean’s abdomen, slickened and glazed with sweat.  He continued to slowly, almost reverently, run his hand up and down the elder Winchester’s stomach, mesmerized by the glistening perspiration.

Dean huffed and pulled out farther.  He snapped his hips forward in a hard thrust, causing Cas to exhale louder in a gasp.  Dean grinned and did it again.  The choked off grunt his lover gave encouraging him to do so again.  And again.  And again.  Pulling out slow, thrusting in harder.  Each time gleaning a slightly louder moan from his ever in control bed partner, the springs in the bed protesting just as loudly.  He dropped one of Cas’ knees and reached down between them, taking hold of Castiel’s length firmly in his hand.  He slowed his thrusts to an almost lazy pace again, stroking the angel’s member, matching the slow rhythm.

Castiel let his arms fall above his head and he groaned contently at his lover’s ministrations.  He arched his back and stretched before sighing in lethargic satisfaction.  The sweat on Dean’s brow was becoming less pronounced, his temperature cooling in the slowed pace of their lovemaking.

They locked gazes.  Green eyes conveying more emotion than could ever be spoken in words, in any language, in any tone.  Blue eyes expressing more than ever had been thought possible in his entire existence.

Another grin tugged at Dean’s lips.  The kind of lips that were written about in stories.  His hand quickened its pace and the grin turned to a smirk as the angel gasped and his body shuddered, hands flexing, unable to decide how to react between the slow thrusting and fast stroking.

_“D-Dean.”_

The hunter let go of the leg he held and grasped the former garrison commander’s sharply angled hip.  He sped up and matched the speed of his thrusts to his hand, adjusting the angle.  It was just enough of an improvement to coax short breathy moans to escape the other man’s throat, punctuating the metal squeaking of the mattress springs.

Cas watched as sweat beaded along his lover’s brow and temples.  He gasped when a droplet managed to trickle down the weather worn skin of Dean’s face.  Every time Dean’s cock brushed up against his prostate his muscles involuntarily flexed and his moans got a little bit louder.

When Dean had Castiel writhing beneath him he stopped and let go of his silky cock and pulled out.  He grasped under both Cas’ smooth thighs with his damp palms and lifted the angel’s hips up off the bed.  He lined his shaft up between the angel’s legs, thrusting along his lover’s perineum, the head brushing along the other man’s scrotum.

Cas grasped Dean’s shaft, forming a ring with his thumb, middle, and index fingers.  He reached up with his other hand, sliding up along Dean’s stomach and as much of his chest he could reach from this angle.  He admired the way the human’s glistening skin almost seemed to glow like the metal on the edge of an Angel Blade.

Dean lowered Cas back onto the bed, running his hands along the soft, warm skin of his sides, feeling the hard muscles underneath.  He then lined himself up and pushed back into the delicious heat, buried his face into Castiel’s neck, felt the strong muscles of the angel’s chest pressing against his.  He pressed his lips to the skin of Cas’ neck and shoulder.

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean, embracing the hunter’s body close to his.  He licked and sucked at the man’s neck, hands sliding down the built up perspiration on skin of his back.  Cas massaged Dean’s ass with both hands, kneading into the flesh and spreading his cheeks as the man rocked into him.  He sighed as he wrapped himself around his lover, felt their skin sliding against each other, Dean’s sweat dampening both of them.

Dean licked and sucked at the angel’s skin.  Marking him.  Claiming him.  Not caring that the marks would soon be gone, only needing to see them on his angel’s skin knowing he was the one who put them there.  He continued to rock his body into his lover’s, gradually picking up his pace until he was thrusting into Cas, the rhythmic sounds of the bed filling the room along with the noisy kisses they left on each other’s skin.  Dean changed the angle of his hips until Castiel gasped out loud.  He grinned and tried to aim every thrust into that one sweet spot.  He pressed their lips together, muffling his partner’s moans as they increased in volume.

Suddenly the world was flipped upside down as Dean found himself flat on his back with Castiel impaling himself down onto Dean’s shaft in a controlled, steady pace.  He let out a groan as the angel’s head fell back, exposing his neck, his breath coming out in gasping pants.  When he lifted himself off Dean’s cock he slid forward up Dean’s abdomen.  Dean grasped Cas’ hips and grinned almost darkly.  He curled forward as much as he was able and, when the other man moved forward again, he managed to catch a fairly decent amount of Cas’ erection in his mouth.

Castiel moaned loudly in surprise.  Dean fisted Cas’ dick as the angel thrust himself back onto Dean’s shaft and sucked on the head every time Cas thrust forward.  The sensations of Dean’s cock in his ass, his mouth and hand on his own erection, and the slide of Dean’s sweat on the inside of his thighs had Castiel’s controlled pace stuttering.

_“De- ah, Dean!”_

Dean ceased his frontal assault and maneuvered himself into a kneeling position underneath Castiel.  He pulled Cas’ legs around his waist before thrusting into his lover in earnest, holding the strong, well defined body to his own.  Castiel’s arms wound around his shoulders and held his head in place as they kissed deeply, gasped for air, and moaned against each other lips loud enough to drown out the protesting squeaking of the bed below them.

Cas kissed along Dean’s jaw to his ear, breathing heavily into it.  First just gasping for air, then quietly speaking into it.  Gradually increasing in volume.  The same word.  Over, and over, and over, and over.

_“Dean. Dean. DeanDeanDeanDean…”_

He repeated it, like a prayer.  Like a curse.  Like it was the only word that mattered.

His body tensed…  His climax inching closer, and closer…

His fingers clawed at Dean’s slippery skin, his nails dragging into the human flesh.

_“Dean, Dean, Dean…”_

Again, and again…

Until…

_“Castiel.”_

He came with a resounding shout. _“DEAN!”_

…

…

…

There was a rumbling beneath his ear.

Castiel opened his eyes and saw the gleaming chest of his human hunter beneath his cheek.  The rumbling continued and he realized it was Dean chuckling. “You really _don’t_ sweat under any circumstances,” Dean stated in wonder.

Cas simply sighed and licked at the sweaty skin in front of him, wondering himself at the salty taste it left on his tongue.

\- 30 -

**Author's Note:**

> **Footnotes:**
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> (1) Quark - Reference.com's quick answer to "What is smaller than an atom?”: Atoms are made up of even smaller particles, such as protons and neutrons, which are formed from **even smaller particles known as quarks**. Subatomic particles form atoms, which in turn create molecules, the basic building blocks of matter.
> 
> (2) Anyone catch that reference to Dean’s/Jensen’s “fanfiction lips”? :D
> 
> (3) Not sure if anyone caught the reference to the song “Paradise By the Dashboard Light” by Meat Loaf. I’ve been listening to the Bat Out Of Hell album and couldn’t resist. I don’t even care that it’s excessively cheesy. :D


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